


Creepers go BOOM

by PumpkinPieTimb



Series: Awesamdad fics [3]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Almost everyone's here but they're just mentioned so I won't tag them, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Art, Awesamdude - centric, Awesamdude Needs a Hug, Awesamdude is a creeper, Awesamdude-centric, Fanart, Gen, Graphic Description, SCP AU, TW Vomiting, and blood, lots and lots of angst, of injury, tw blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-11 22:42:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28500141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinPieTimb/pseuds/PumpkinPieTimb
Summary: Sam likes to think of himself as a patient person. He basically spends all of his time with the most chaotic bunch of SCPs to ever exist without ultimately losing his mind for fuck's sake. And also, his child is literally Quackity. You won't see him disowning Quackity any time soon. So of course he's patient.But being a patient person didn't mean he doesn't have a limit. He's allowed to get angry every once in a while.So he doesn't think about it much when he snapped at Tommy for causing another commotion. When he hissed at Tubbo when the kid tried to help building Pandora's Vault. When he yelled at Quackity for almost dying after getting too close to a raging Techno. It's normal, he thought. It's normal to be mad.But soon he learns that sometimes it's not.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Sam | Awesamdude, Phil Watson & Awesamdude
Series: Awesamdad fics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2078037
Comments: 11
Kudos: 210





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic I wrote for @157-bees' SCP au on Tumblr! Please go check them out, the blog is really really fun!! I think it would be difficult to understand this fic without context, but... I hope you enjoy it anyway! Here's the link to [ 157-bees' Tumblr ](https://157-bees.tumblr.com/), and for the [ AU. ](https://157-bees.tumblr.com/tagged/scp-au/chrono)

Sam likes to think of himself as a patient person. He basically spends all of his time with the most chaotic bunch of SCPs to ever exist without ultimately losing his mind for fuck's sake. And also, his child is _literally_ Quackity. You won't see him disowning Quackity any time soon. So of course he's patient.

But being a patient person didn't mean he doesn't have a limit. He's allowed to get angry every once in a while.

So he doesn't think about it much when he snapped at Tommy for causing another commotion. When he hissed at Tubbo when the kid tried to help building Pandora's Vault. When he yelled at Quackity for almost dying after getting too close to a raging Techno. It's normal, he thought. It's normal to be mad.

But soon he learns that sometimes it's not.

For some reason, there's this _itch_ that he gets whenever someone does something remotely angry inducing. Whether it be a big deal, or not at all, it just makes him mad. It started out small, like hissing and snapping, but then it got worse.

It started to concern Sam when he almost sprayed Ranboo with water. The horror he saw in the young SCP's eyes were enough to make him want to curl up and die out of guilt. After that, Sam tried to get a hold on his temper. Key word, _tried_. As much as he tried not to be angry all the time, he just couldn't keep his cool.

And the anger didn't stop there. It got so bad that it didn't even matter if someone did something stupid, he just gets down-right _furious_ whenever someone was around. It didn't matter if it was Phil, or Tubbo, or even _Quackity_ , what mattered is that he gets angry if someone is near him.

Sam didn't know why, but whenever someone was even five or six feet away from him, an instinctual rage boils under his skin, threatening to break out and just... _explode_.

After he got mad at Wilbur and made a hurtful (but not genuine) comment about how the SCP deserved to be muted, Sam had had enough. He covered his mouth in shock-- he didn't know why he snapped in the first place, Wilbur was just trying to get him to cool down-- then ran to his office, locking the door behind him, despite knowing that almost everyone in the site could just come in, one way or another.

He didn't bother answering the angry (concerned, they're just concerned) calls behind the door as he hurriedly entered the separate room where he keeps the Pandora's Vault.

Most of the SCP and staff in the site could easily break into his office, but no one would ever try to get into his 'hobby room'-- maybe Quackity would, but his kid knows when to leave him alone-- so he used this knowledge in his favor. As expected, nobody barged into his hiding place.

Sam slid down to the floor and pulled his knees to his chest. He stared at Pandora's Vault, contemplating on whether he should take it down and rebuild it like usual. He did.

The researcher stayed in his office for the next five hours, just rebuilding his Vault and thinking of ways to apologize to Wilbur and the others. He hasn't had the urge to explode for the few hours he's been alone, so he takes it as a good sign.

When he finally decided to come out of his hiding, the first people he saw were Dream and Fundy. When they saw him come out of his office, they walked over with concerned expressions. Sam wanted to talk to them, say sorry for being an asshole, tell them that he's calmed down. But the moment they were close enough, everything went to shit.

Sam's mood changed in a whiplash. He turned from calm and guilty to furious and aggressive in a matter of seconds.

It was so sudden that Dream, Fundy, and even _himself_ didn't have time to react properly. Squares of green in different shades appeared on his arms, on his _skin_ , then they turned white, then they started to sting, then they started to _burn_. It hurt. _It hurt so much._ He thought that was the worst of it, but then his arms _exploded_. Like a literal _bomb_.

Dream was fast enough to grab Fundy and shield him from the explosion, his back took most of the hit, but the fox-like researcher's leg still got injured. He hissed in pain but clutched Fundy even tighter as he stood up and ran, never looking back at Sam in his panic to look for a doctor.

He never saw Sam staring at his bloody and disfigured arms in horror as they stitched themselves back in shape. He never saw Sam run into his office in a panicked rush. He never saw Sam enter the bathroom to find himself with pitch black eyes and multi-shaded green squares all over his skin. He never saw Sam fall to the floor and cry his heart out. He never saw Sam for the next three weeks.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW VOMITING, BLOOD AND GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION OF GORE/INJURY. If you still want to read this please start at the FOURTH paragraph for the blood and injury then at the SIXTH OR SEVENTH for the vomiting. Enjoy!

Sam stared at his arms in horror. They were bloody and mangled and _oh god he can see his bones._

As a researcher in a facility that regularly performs tests that usually involves opening up and studying the human-- or rather _not_ human-- body in order to know how it functions, Sam shouldn't have been so horrified. He knows what blood looks like, knows how it smells like, he knows what flesh looks like when opened up and exposed for the world to see, he knows what bones look like while it's still connected to a living, breathing human body. But still, he gags.

He swallows the bile that climbed up his throat just as he had swallowed down his horrified screech when the mangled flesh started moving on their own. He had to get away. There were cameras nearby and _he needs to get away._ If the higher ups find out about this...

Sam shook his head to clear his already malfunctioning mind. He runs to his office, straight to the bathroom and _vomits_ into the toilet. He gags and vomits and spits out the very few contents of his stomach. (He doesn't see his arms fixing themselves.)

It hasn't even been ten minutes and he's already dry heaving, proving how small he's been eating recently. If you even count Ranboo's cereal as food, that is. If you don't, then he hasn't been eating at all.

He risks a glance at his arms to see them fully healed, they were covered in blood and there were those green squares everywhere, but otherwise they're fine. Sam was reminded of how the squares glowed bright white before exploding. He went back to gagging out nothing.

After who-knows-how-long of just Sam hacking his lungs out into the toilet, he leaned back on his heels with a sigh. He caught a glimpse of his eyes in the mirror, making him jump and stare at himself, his grip on the sink tightening with every new feature he sees.

His eyes were pitch black and void, it was so empty, it gives away no emotion, it was terrifying. His face, particularly his temples and cheeks, were littered with those multi-shaded green squares that were all over his arms. There were a few streaks of green hair sticking out like a sore thumb in his normally dirty blond ones. His teeth are sharp and inhuman. _He_ was inhuman.

Sam crumbles to the floor with a broken sob. He doesn't know what to do. It was so obvious that he's been affected by the SCPs (he doesn't blame them), if the higher ups finds out about this, he's a goner. He's seen how fast they turned on Bad and Skeppy, he knows about the tests, he's _seen_ the reports, they weren't good.

_Nothing_ that those monsters do to the SCPs and affected staff in this facility is good. He doubts he'll be safe from their wrath the moment they find out about this.

His sobs get louder the more he thinks about it. He'll get tested on, he'll loose all the respect he has, he'll loose all his _influence_.

The influence that lets him get his friends out of trouble. The influence that gives him the access to confidential files. The influence that helps him find out who hurt any of his friends. The influence that lets him protect his friends. The influence that he so desperately tries to keep in order to _keep his friends safe._

The same friends that he snapped, yelled, hurt, and _exploded_ at for the past few weeks. Sam wails louder. He messed up. So _so_ bad. He messed up and he can't even fix it.

Sam knows that the moment he gets close to anyone, he'll explode. He can't even say sorry to their face. Sure, his injuries heal themselves, but his friends' injuries _don't._ Not only did he royally fuck himself over, but the rest of them as well.

The logical side of him argued that Phil can alter reality, that the SCPs are going to be fine without him, but he still cried. He cried because the truth hurt. He cried and sobbed and wailed and screamed his lungs out until he passed out from exhaustion.

-

When he woke up, he felt an unfamiliar weight over his face. Sam lifted a hand to take it off when someone gently stopped him.

"Don't take it off." The person, who was apparently Phil, instructed in a soft voice.

Sam nodded, his groggy mind not processing that Phil literally touched him and he didn't explode. But what he did process was--

"Phil get away from me!" He suddenly exclaimed in panic, his voice hoarse from all his crying. Sam pulled away from Phil so fast that he fell from the bed and onto the floor with a loud thud. Wait, bed?

"Don't worry mate, you won't explode," Phil explained with a small, reassuring, smile. "Also, we're in one of my pocket dimensions."

"What?" How did Phil know? Wait-- fuck, of course he does.

Phil raised an amused eyebrow. "I said we were in a pocket dimension," he responded.

Sam shook his head. "Wha-- why, what the fuck?" He blurts out, staring at his arms. The green squares were still there. Why wasn't he exploding? Phil's literally _right there_. He doesn't even feel angry like usual. It can't be that Phil's an exemption, he's felt rage towards the old god for the past few weeks as well.

"Oh, you were asking about the exploding thing. Like I said, don't worry, as long as you have that mask on you won't feel the need to explode or be needlessly angry for no reason." Phil said matter-of-factly.

"Mask?" Sam asked dumbly, a hand coming up to touch the unfamiliar weight that was covering his face. He could still see everything clearly so he didn't realize it was a mask, he wondered if Phil had anything to do with it.

Phil nodded, offering Sam a hand. "Yeah, I made it so the side-effects of your change won't be as bad," he explained patiently.

Sam hesitantly took the offered hand and felt a weight lift fom his shoulders when he didn't explode. He let himself get pulled to his feet and didn't hesitate to hug Phil, tight. "Thank you," he can't help but sob.

Phil pat his back. "No problem mate. Sorry I couldn't reverse the transformation all the way."

Sam shook his head. "N-no, it's not your fault."

Phil hummed and let the researcher cry in his arms. Offering comforting words and ways to hide his new features. This went on for a few hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you enjoy? >:3c


	3. Chapter 3

When he showed up in the facility after three weeks (Phil apparently took a while to figure out what to do, so he made Sam sleep while he worked) with a mask, of course there were questions, he expected as much.

Sam used the story Phil and himself came up with, which was: there was an explosion and he was scarred, simple and understandable, it was enough to fool the higher ups with a little help from Phil.

But it was a shitty excuse to use for their friends' standards. Their friends didn't buy the lie, as expected, so they told them the truth.

Ranboo and Techno had tensed up at the information, but quickly relaxed once Phil explained how the mask worked. The mask was plain dark green before Ranboo insisted on drawing a 'creeper' face on it. Whatever that creature is, it had black squares as eyes and a blocky frown, apparently. If Ranboo started getting fidgety and nervous around him, he chose not to comment.

Tommy, George, and Sapnap had teased him and Dream about being mask buddies. But it was all in good fun.

Bad and Skeppy had given him sympathetic smiles. Sam gave them an understanding nod.

Tubbo had hugged Sam and assured him that he forgives him for being an angry asshole from the last time they saw each other when Sam apologized for his temper. As did everybody else. Even Wilbur.

Everyone was really accepting, Sam didn't expect any less but he was still scared. He fucked up so bad. He really thought that at least Dream and Fundy would be pissed with him. But they weren't.

Sam had apologized profusely to Dream and Fundy when he found out about their injuries, they brushed it off as nothing (Sam didn't, he blames himself whenever he sees Fundy limp and wince whenever he walks, he blames himself whenever he gets a glimpse of the bandages under Dream's clothes, he blames himself for a lot of things).

Quackity had hugged him like Tubbo did (like a lot of them did). Then hugged him again when they were alone in the researcher's office. His son whispered assurances that Sam wasn't a monster and never will be, that he loves him no matter what, as he holds the sobbing man close. Sam had no clue how or why Quackity knew about his insecurities, but he appreciates the gesture.

Sam put up a front of being fine with everything new in his life. Like it was normal.

Like wearing long sleeves and turtle necks all the time, even when it's hot, is normal. Like being shifty and nervous around other people is normal. Like being scared-- no-- _appalled_ of cats is normal. Like wearing a mask all the time is normal.

It's not. And he knows. _Everyone_ knows this.

Sam hates his mask.

It was itchy and uncomfortable. It's annoying and gets in the way too much. He always forgets that he can't rub at his tired eyes anymore and he has trouble with expressing his emotions without words like he used to.

His disappointed frowns, his glares, his smiles... his encouraging, proud, threatening, happy, or excited smiles are always covered by the mask. He can't even _wipe_ his tears whenever he sees one his friends get hurt.

The mask may hide his secrets, but it also hides _so many other things_. It's frustrating, to say the least. Honestly, calling it frustrating is an understatement.

Sam stares at his reflection in the mirror. He stares at the mask. He stares at the square eyes and blocky frown. It looks sad. If what Ranboo said about creepers never changing facial expressions is true, does that mean creepers are always sad?

He almost laughs at the irony.

Phil said he was turning into a creeper. Phil said the mask would stop his anger. Phil said it would make him stop exploding. Phil never said anything about stopping the sadness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may or may not add another chapter to this lmao


	4. ART

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art by [Time](https://timetraveler-artist-writer.tumblr.com/)

****

**Author's Note:**

> That title was created to form false sense of security... did it work? >:3


End file.
